


I Won't Let You Fall Tonight

by destihellion



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Falling Castiel, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-04
Updated: 2015-08-04
Packaged: 2018-04-12 23:04:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,064
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4498092
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/destihellion/pseuds/destihellion
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel is falling.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Won't Let You Fall Tonight

**Author's Note:**

> I've been listening to my Destiel playlist constantly for the past week and this shit popped in my head. I'm sorry. 
> 
> The songs that inspired this are Fallen Angel by Three Days Grace and Your Guardian Angel by The Red Jumpsuit Apparatus.

The screaming starts just after midnight, as it usually does.  

 There have only been a handful of peaceful, uninterrupted nights within the last month, but they’ve been few and far between for nearly two weeks now. Sam started sleeping in one of the bedrooms farthest down the hall in hopes to block it out, but there have been some really bad nights where the sound still reaches him. 

 Dean stays in his own room, not willing to go any further away from the cries no matter how much sleep he’s losing. Those gut wrenching, terrified sounds coming from the bedroom next to his have started haunting him even during the daylight hours. Cries of anguish mixed with pitiful whimpers that shoot straight through his chest and send chills down his spine. But he doesn’t know what to do about it. That’s his best friend in the other room, and he can’t do anything to help him.

 Because that’s the sound of an angel falling. 

 Closing the gates of Heaven cut Castiel off from the Host entirely, but instead of becoming human immediately like they’d all expected, his grace has been leaving in short bursts. He wakes up weaker and weaker, his angel mojo disappearing through the night. It’s been a gradual and exhausting process, and Dean is ready for it to be over.

 It started three days after they had returned to the bunker. Castiel felt off, almost like he was dragging, and his eyes were constantly bothering him. When he explained it to Dean, the hunter told him he was most likely feeling fatigue. Castiel had gone quiet then, realizing what was happening, and it was only moment later that Dean caught up too.

 “Cas-” the hunter had started, but Castiel cut him off.

 “It looks like I’ll be needing a bedroom.”

 Dean wanted to say something more, but then he seemed to think better of it and nodded once wordlessly. He then nodded again in the direction of the hallway, turning to walk in that direction towards the sleeping quarters. Castiel followed behind him, not saying anything as Dean opened up a linen closet and began handing him blankets and pillows.

 Dean bypassed several rooms until he came to the one directly adjacent to his own. Again, Castiel had followed wordlessly behind him. When Dean turned back to him, he had opened his mouth as if to say something, but one look at Castiel had him closing it again. He took the blankets from Castiel and made up the bed, not commenting when Castiel didn’t move to help him. When he was done, he stood and walked over until he was shoulder to shoulder with his friend, facing the door.

 “Anything you need…”

 The unsaid _“You know where to find me”_ was not lost on Castiel, and he had nodded, not even turning to look the hunter in the face. Castiel watched in his peripherals as Dean looked at his profile for a moment more before sighing and putting a hand on his shoulder, squeezing once before releasing him and walking out of the room.

 Castiel had stripped down to his boxer briefs and sat on the edge of the bed, staring a hole through the wall. Sooner than he hoped, he was fighting to keep his eyes open. He stood and began pacing, putting off the inevitable for as long as possible. He didn’t want to sleep. Sleeping meant he was losing everything. But he couldn’t stop it though, no matter how hard he tried. 

He nearly tripped over his own feet after a while, and eventually sighed in defeat and turned to the bed. He pulled back the covers that Dean had so diligently tucked in, and he slid beneath them in one smooth motion. He didn’t remember letting his eyes close or allowing his body to relax, but the next thing he knew he was slipping out of consciousness, and into hell reincarnated.

 That’s when the nightmares began.

 The first scream that rang through the bunker had Dean out of his bed and on his feet, gun in hand, before he had even realized what was happening. The second scream had him tripping over the pants he had earlier discarded in an attempt to get to his door, because he _knew_  that voice, though he’d never heard it sound like _that_. Not bothering with anymore clothing than the t-shirt and boxer-briefs he had on, Dean had thrown open his door at the exact same time that Sam did two doors down. The brothers had made eye contact, a silent conversation passing between them, before another scream rang out. 

 Dean had spun on his heels then, practically throwing himself on Castiel’s door and barging into the room, gun raised high.  He felt Sam over his should a second later, making sure the other side of the room was clear. A quick sweep of the room showed no intruder inside, but Dean’s relief was short lived. 

 Castiel was in the center of the bed, writhing in his sleep. The covers had been thrown off, and from the light emanating from the hallway Dean could see a fine sheen of sweat covering the angel’s body. His hair was plastered to his forehead and his usually tanned skin was now a sickly pale color. He was mumbling in his sleep, words Dean couldn’t piece together, and his face was scrunched up in distress. 

Castiel had suddenly curled in on himself then, another blood curling scream ringing through the bedroom, and Dean had sprung into action. He was kneeling on the bed in an instant, placing his gun on the nightstand before he took the angel’s shoulders in his hands.

 “Cas. Cas, hey,” Castiel had flinched away like Dean was hurting him, but Dean had held on, shaking him slightly. “Cas, c’mon.”

 Castiel had jerked awake then, and Dean had to sit back quickly in order to avoid being head-butted as the angel sat up in a hurry. He was breathing hard and his panicked eyes were flying all across the room. Dean stood up then, giving Cas his space, and Sam, ever the calming presence, had started to talk him down from his panic. Dean had recognized the method as one he used to use on Sam himself when he was younger, and a surge of _something_ had gone through Dean.

 Castiel didn’t say much the day after the first nightmare. Dean could tell he was still bone tired, but the flash of panic that swept over the angel’s face when he suggested taking a nap was enough to stop him from mentioning it again. So Dean had taken it upon himself to help Castiel do what Winchesters do best.

 Ignore it and get the mind off of it. 

 Dean did everything he could to keep Castiel’s mind away from the nightmares. He took him down to the shooting range and let him unload a few clips, had him help give his baby a tune-up in the garage, and even took him out to get some new clothes. It was a good day, in his books. Castiel had even mumbled along to some of the words of ‘Ramble On’ on the way back to the bunker, earning a hair ruffle from Dean that actually made him smile.

 That didn’t stop the nightmares from coming again that night, though.

 Or the night after.

  No matter what Dean did or how good of a day they had, the nightmares always came. Castiel is becoming more and more human as the days go by, and that along with the restless nights are physically taking a toll on him. Dean is used to three and four hours of sleep—he’s been doing that the majority of his life—but Cas isn’t used to sleeping _at all_. He needs his rest. His eyes are sunken, he’s clearly lost weight, and though he tries his hardest, Dean can sense him getting irritable.

The nightmares seems to be getting worse every night, and Castiel finally told Dean that the reason they’re so bad is that with every dream, a piece of his grace leaves him. He can feel it dwindling down to nothing, and as he gets closer to becoming human they’re only going to get worse.

Which explains the screaming tonight. 

Dean is lying on his side in his own bed, facing the wall that connects his and Cas’ bedrooms. The cries woke him up fifteen minutes ago, and his chest aches with each anguished sound that comes from the other side of the wall. Dean knows he has at least another hour or so before he’ll be able to sleep again.

_If_ he’s able to sleep again.

There’s something different about the cries tonight, something that put Dean’s senses on high alert the moment he heard them. Most nights it’s just screams of fear, the nightmares doing their job, but tonight it sounds more like _pain_. Castiel didn’t mention anything about his grace hurting when it leaves him, but Dean knows pain when he hears it.

The angel has lost all of his powers except for one. His smiting ability has dribbled down to nothing, he’s no longer able to heal Dean or Sam with a touch—that made him lock himself in his room for two days straight when it happened—, he can’t read people’s minds, and he’s lost the strength he possessed though Dean still thinks he’s stronger than the average human. The only thing Castiel can really do now is teleport from room to room.

Dean’s phone pulls him from his thoughts when it buzzes once on his night stand, signaling a text message. He sighs, reaching over and plucking the phone from the table. There’s only one person who would be texting him at—he looks at the clock—2 o’clock in the morning. He sits up and unlocks his phone, squinting down at the small text. Like he predicted, it’s from Sam.

_S: What do we do?_

Dean sighs again and runs a hand down his face before tapping out a reply.

_D: there’s nothing we can do. u know that._

_S: Should we wake him up?_

_S: Listen to him. That sounds horrible, Dean._

Dean _is_  listening to him. He’s been listening to him almost every night for the past month. Castiel had specifically asked that he not be woken up though, wanting to get it over with as quickly as possible. Apparently his grace doesn’t leave as quickly when he’s awake as it does when he’s asleep.

_D: leave him be. u should think about going to get a hotel room though._

_S: I’m not leaving him._

Dean can’t help but smile. He’s fixing to type out a reply when Castiel screams out again, only this time the sound makes Dean’s blood run cold. He drops his phone on the bed and listens, because that scream wasn’t one of a man trapped in a nightmare. 

No, that scream was from a man in agony.

That scream also had a name.

_“Dean!”_

Dean is out of his bed in an instant, nearly falling face first when his leg gets caught in the blanket. He throws open his door just as Castiel cries out for him again.

_“Dean!”_

“Cas!” Dean calls back as he barges into the angel’s room, stopping short at what he sees, eyes wide.

Castiel is curled in on himself, hands reaching over his shoulders and clawing at his back as he lets out another blood curdling scream. Dean sees blood beginning to well up from where his fingernails are digging in, and before he thinks about it he’s rushing over to the bed, pulling at Castiel’s arms.

“Cas, stop!” Dean pleads when Castiel fights him, “Tell me what’s going on!”

“ _Dean!_ ” Castiel yells again, and terrified blue eyes look up at him from a tear-streaked face.

“Cas, I’m right here,” Dean tugs his at the man’s hands again and this time Castiel lets them be pulled forward.

Kneeling in front of him, Dean brings both of Castiel’s hands together and holds them as the angel continues to lay there weeping. Dean can hear Sam behind him, and he turns his head to nod at his brother to let him know he’s got in under control before turning back to his friend.

“Cas, look at me,” he whispers.

Castiel does, turning his head to look up at the hunter. “Dean…”

“What’s going on? What’s wrong with your back?”

Castiel looks as though he’s going to answer, but as soon as he opens his mouth his eyes go wide and he begins struggling to get out of Dean’s grip as lets out another anguished, “ _No!_ ”

“Cas!” Dean lets him go, afraid the angel is going to hurt himself, and as soon as he does Castiel curls back into himself, reaching around again.

“ _You can’t have them!_ ” He screeches.

“Can’t have _what_?” Dean begs Castiel to answer him, panic beginning to settle in the pit of his stomach.

He reaches out for Castiel again but this time, instead of fighting, Castiel reaches back for Dean. Dean tugs until Castiel’s face is buried in his stomach, arms wrapped around his middle. Dean lays one hand against the back of the angel’s head and the other skims over his back.

“Don’t let them take them, Dean,” Castiel pleads quietly, “Please don’t let them take them.”

“Cas, what-“

And then it dawns on him. The only part of Castiel’s true form that manifested in his vessel, though human eyes couldn’t perceive them. The only thing that would cause him this much pain, and the only ability he has left.  

_Wings._

Dean’s stomach plummets, and his throat tightens. “Cas…” He whispers.

“They’re all I have!” Castiel cries, voice muffled by Dean’s shirt, “Please!”

Dean looks back at Sam, whose brow is furrowed with worry.

“Castiel, are you- are you _holding on_  to them?” Sam asks, and Dean’s eyes widen as he looks back down at his friend. 

Castiel nods, “I can’t let them have them…I-I won’t…-” He cries out again, reaching back to claw at his shoulders, face still buried in Dean’s stomach.

Dean pulls Castiel’s hand away from his back slowly, “Cas it’s hurting you-“

“No!” Castiel cries, pulling away from Dean and sitting back on his knees, giving a pleading look to both Sam and Dean. He’s upright for approximately 3 seconds before he’s doubled over again, crying out in pain.

Dean looks back at Sam again, and Sam nods towards Castiel. Silent conversations are their specialty, and with only that look, Dean knows what Sam’s telling him to do. His stomach twists itself even more at the thought, but he knows Sam is right. This is the only way.

“Cas, buddy,” Dean sighs, scooting over until he’s kneeling directly in front of his angel. 

Castiel uncurls slightly and looks up at him, “Please help me, Dean,” he whispers, “I-I _need_  them.”

Dean feels his throat start to close up, and he has to swallow a few times before reaching out and touching one of Castiel’s arms. 

“You need to let go,” he says softly.

Castiel flinches like Dean’s just slapped him across the face, and he scoots away from Dean with wide eyes. 

“No…”

“Cas-“

“ _No!_ ” Castiel’s voice breaks, and he ends up scooting until he’s at the edge of the bed, standing and continuing to back up until he reaches the wall, looking like a trapped animal. His eyes are brimmed with tears again and he’s shaking uncontrollably. Dean feels his own heart breaking for him. 

Dean lifts himself off the bed and walks around it, approaching Castiel without breaking eye contact, hands raised slightly. Castiel begins shaking even more as Dean walks towards him, and his lip begins to quiver.

“I’m so sorry,” Dean whispers.

“ _Dean-_ ” Castiel chokes out, a jolt of paint visibly shooting through his body and cutting off whatever he was about to say. He’s reaching back again, but instead of clawing at his invisible wings, it looks more like he’s holding them.

Dean moves closer, reaching out to put his hands on the angel’s shoulders. He ducks his head and makes Castiel look at him.

“I’ve got you,” Dean whispers, squeezing his shoulders.

Castiel whimpers, hands coming down from over his back and landing on Dean’s shoulders. He grips the collar of Dean’s t-shirt in two fists like a lifeline, and Dean has to shift closer so he doesn’t get choked by his own shirt.

“I don’t want to fall, Dean,” Castiel pleads quietly, “Please don’t let me fall.”

Dean brings their foreheads together. “Close your eye, Cas.”

A barely controlled sob wracks Castiel’s chest, but he does as he’s told. He’s trembling, and Dean moves his hands to bring him closer, one hand going to the back of his angel’s head and the other wrapping around his waist. 

“Let go,” Dean breathes.

Cas flinches, pulling Dean closer by his collar as he whimpers.

“Let _go_ , Cas,” Dean’s voice breaks, unable to keep his own emotions at bay.

Castiel cries out, body tensing as tears begin to fall down his face. He shakes his head violently.

Tears are blurring Dean’s vision, but that’s the last thing he’s worried about. “You’re falling because of _me_ , Cas," Dean whispers, "and I swear on my life I won't let you fall for nothing. If I have to stand with you forever to make you understand that you're not alone in this, I will. I'll do whatever it takes.”

Castiel wraps his arms around Dean’s neck and buries his face in Dean’s shoulder, and Dean tightens his hold. The hand that’s not on the angel’s head begins rubbing over his bare shoulder blades as he repeats himself for a final time.

“ _Let go, Castiel._ ”

There’s a blinding white light and the tell-tale beating of wings that fills the room before a resounding _boom_  silences it all. A suffering wail breaks out of Castiel’s mouth, his body bending forward as the weight of the sob overtakes him, and Dean tightens his hold as the angel falls into him.

“I’ve got you,” The tears are falling freely down Dean’s face now, but he ignores them in favor of turning his head and buying his nose in Castiel’s hair as the angel- no, _man_ , continues to sob into his shoulder.

“I’ve got you.”

**Author's Note:**

> come visit me [here](http://dirtytrenchcoatsandwinchesters.tumblr.com/) on tumblr. i'm nice i swear.


End file.
